More than Life Itself
by barneyrockz
Summary: While reading Darcy's letter, Elizabeth doesn't realize she's stepped onto the road until it's almost too late. Will anyone come to her rescue and how will it change her opinion of a certain man? ONESHOT


**I **_**should**_** be studying, but I don't really feel like it. Instead I offer you this. =)**

* * *

Elizabeth read, and reread the letter she clutched in her hands. She had paid little mind where she was going upon first reading the missive and now on the fourth reading she had no idea where her feet were taking her. The words printed in elegant script were all that her mind could process.

'_I shall endeavor to find some opportunity of putting this letter into your hands in the course of the morning. I will only add, God bless—.' _

A whinny and a terrified shout dragged her attention back to reality. There was a carriage coming down the road at a swift speed, and she had unknowingly walked out in front of it! Only a few yards separated them and Elizabeth was frozen in fright, waiting for the impact. She closed her eyes and braced herself.

The blow came earlier than she expected and, through her disorganized and terror-clouded mind, she vaguely registered that it had not come from the direction she had been expecting. She roughly fell to the grass on the other side of the road, the collision forcing her eyes open. Because of this, she was able to see Mr. Darcy standing where she had been only moments before, an equal expression of panic in his features. Their eyes locked fleetingly until the carriage reached him and he was caught under lashing hooves and spinning wheels.

The carriage lurched to a stop a few yards from the prone figure that was Mr. Darcy. The door was flung open and a short man, in the garb of a well-off merchant, dashed over to her. She was still sitting, her thoughts too scrambled to be articulated. Mr. Darcy had still not moved and her eyes could focus on nothing else. The footman, who had been driving, made his way over to Darcy and leaned his ear down near Darcy's mouth.

"He's alive." A collective sigh of relief was uttered. Darcy chose this moment to groan and attempt to roll over, but the action soon caused him to lose consciousness once again. The merchant offered Elizabeth a hand to help her off the ground she still had not moved from. Once she was standing, the man briefly searched for serious injuries, but found none.

"Please, you must allow me to offer you use of my carriage. I can take you and your friend wherever you wish to go." Elizabeth nodded absently and managed to say "Rosings Park". True to his word, in less than ten minutes the carriage pulled up outside the house and he and his footman assisted Darcy inside. Elizabeth shakily followed them.

There was a massive confusion as people tried to attend to Darcy and discover what happened. The merchant and footman told the tale as best they could, but were obliged to leave soon after they arrived. They could not even stay for tea, though they were invited.

Elizabeth, however, was not _asked_ to tea, she was forced. Colonel Fitzwilliam had attended his cousin in a short period of consciousness that he had held after being placed in his room. It had not been much, but Darcy had managed to ask one thing of the colonel.

"Take care of Elizabeth. Make sure she is well."

Darcy had fallen back into an unconscious state right afterward. The colonel left a servant to watch Darcy and instructed to be informed should he awake, or after the doctor had made his diagnosis.

Colonel Fitzwilliam had then gone back to the entryway where Elizabeth hovered, pale as a ghost. Firmly he _invited_ her to tea and refused to accept any excuse. The tea seemed to revive her and slowly Fitzwilliam managed to work out everything that had happened from her perspective. They were alone, as the excitement had been too much for Anne and Lady Catherine was meticulously giving instructions for Darcy's recovery.

As Elizabeth was concluding her tale, the doctor quietly stepped into the room and signaled the colonel who politely excused himself for a moment. Darcy's injuries amounted to several broken bones and a few minor abrasions, but thankfully no internal bleeding.

"There is one more thing," the doctor said lowering his voice even further, "he is conscious now and has expressed a desire to see Miss Bennet. I assume that is her there?" Fitzwilliam nodded in response to the question. He was hardly surprised at his cousin's request, but conflicted. They would wish to speak in private and it would be most improper, but he had the strongest faith in his cousin's manners.

Now decided, he returned to Elizabeth and told her of Darcy's wish to see her. Fitzwilliam could see the reluctance in her eyes, but at his gentle urging she finally agreed.

When she entered the room, Darcy sat up as best he could and offered her a small smile. She bit her lip, unable to return the gesture. Colonel Fitzwilliam did not stay a minute. He was out the door before either had been fully conscious of him. Elizabeth said nothing, but walked to the window that overlooked the manicured gardens. She could feel Darcy's eyes on her back, but she was at a loss for words.

"Why did you do that?" She cried at last, spinning to face him. "You could have died!"

"As could have you," he replied softly. Elizabeth started at the words and the gentleness with which they were spoken.

"My situation was accidental; you actively put your life in danger, sir." Darcy shook his head slowly trying not to wince in pain.

"No, I _saved_ my life." Darcy stressed the word "saved" trying to communicate something to her that she did not understand. All she could do was look at him in confusion. "Elizabeth," Darcy continued, his voice sinking to a more intimate tone, "you of all people should know that I am hopelessly in love with you. I do not live without you; I simply exist. I love you more than life itself." Elizabeth gasped and raised a hand to her mouth. Just last night she had scorned him and slandered him by any means possible. Not twenty-four hours ago had she thrown the love he offered her back into his face and declared he was the _last man in the world she would ever marry_, yet he was still willing to jump in front of a carriage to save her and humble himself again with a declaration of love. Try as she might, she could find no pride, no arrogance and no conceit in his actions. Was his pride a mask instead of an identity?

"I'm sorry," Darcy spoke again, interpreting her silence as rejection. Elizabeth was confused once more. "After last night I should not have tried to force my feelings upon you again." He looked awkwardly down at the blanket he was worrying through his hands. Elizabeth considered him and found that, while she had always found him handsome, right then she though him cute (an adjective she would have before never thought of using with Darcy). Perhaps the carriage was an act of providence as opposed to a punishment from the gods. Could she give Darcy a second chance?

Darcy began to fidget under her intense gaze, equally dying to know her thoughts and fearing them.

"You need not apologize, Mr. Darcy, I find that receiving your confession is more appealing than previously." A grin almost surfaced to Darcy's face, but it was succeeded by a look of anger.

"If this is your idea of gratitude I want nothing of it," he stated firmly. "Unless you can truly say you have feelings for me like the ones I have for you, do not inspire false hopes in me. By doing that you do far more damage than that carriage ever could have." Elizabeth advanced a few steps toward the bed and softly laid her hand on his.

"Maybe the carriage accident wasn't an accident after all. Perhaps this whole scenario was to give me a second chance to see who you really are. Today I saw nothing conceited or arrogant in you. I only saw a brave and honorable gentleman, whom I would not mind becoming better acquainted with. So you see, the accident did cause my change of mind—change of heart—but only because I saw a side of you I had not seen before. No gratitude and no pity. Just a change of heart." Darcy looked up at her with eyes shining with love and a tide of unshed tears of bliss. Elizabeth raised his hand to her lips and kissed it. She sat in the chair next to his bed, but never relinquished her hold on his hand. It was too soon, too fast, but as she gently brushed his bangs back from his face, she knew that she loved him just as much as he did her; more than life itself.


End file.
